The Sidekick

Izel Nava

Editorial Team Member

The stall separator on my left is carved with the same drawings that were there when I was a foot shorter. No one ever used the bathroom because the fluorescent lights had a habit of going out, the air was offensively humid, and the stench of wet grass never left even in the hottest Texas weather. But to me, this school bathroom was perfect. Because for a second I had a chance to breathe without being suffocated by my senses. 

I was sitting down in the abandoned stall trying not to cry. This wasn’t the first time I’d done this, but this time was even more embarrassing because I didn't have a reason. I tried to swallow my cry, an ineffective and pathetic attempt at earning back my dignity. I heard my mom trying to get me to tell her what was wrong, “No puedo ayudarte si no me dices lo que te pasa”/“I can’t help you if you don't tell me what’s wrong”, I cried harder.

I’ve always taken everything personally. My mom used to joke that I felt emotions at an extreme, I never felt anything in small amounts. Which is true. I’ve always either hated something or loved it. I've never had an in-between. I ignore the sickness in my stomach and wait for my eyes to stop being red. As I shuffle into the classroom I think about how useful it would be to be invisible. 

Invisibility served as both a blessing and a curse. A lot of the time I spent being alone meant I became my antagonist, my own enemy who couldn’t break out of their trap. To be honest, I wasn’t a superhero even when I wasn’t being antisocial. I had four real friends, three whom I don't talk to anymore, and probably don't know how much they changed the trajectory of my life. In a cheesy way, I knew I wasn’t a superhero, they made me feel okay being a sidekick.

The stall on my left is still carved, only I’m now taller with dry cheeks. The fluorescent lights in my middle school still work too well, it smells like a sickly-sweet perfume. For a second when I look in the mirror, I see a reflection of myself I haven’t seen in a long time. But I’m at a point now where that little girl is looking back at me, and I realize three things: being able to fly is a much cooler superpower than invisibility, Robin is so much cooler than Batman, and I'm going to be okay.